


She's a Believer

by canadduh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action, Adventure, Bobby - Freeform, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel barely makes an appearance in this one, Drinking, Gen, John Winchester Being an Asshole, John Winchester Not Being an Asshole, No relation to Garth, Panic Attacks, Rian Fitzgerald, Season 1, castiel - Freeform, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 12:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12132768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canadduh/pseuds/canadduh
Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester are not what she expected them to be. Granted the differences between real people and characters on TV were always major. For one thing, characters weren't real people. But real people were, y'know, real. This is the story of Rian Fitzgerald, an intern, a nobody, and a believer of the impossible.





	She's a Believer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, all! I've also posted this on FF.net under the same username. Over there the story is complete. I'm editing the whole thing (again) and posting it here as well. I hope you enjoy!

The low sound of Adele played over the scratch of pencil on paper, and the turn of pages as the brunette flipped through the book in front of her. In an attempt to relearn her earlier studies of psychology for a case she was considering at work, Rian had mistakenly purchased an incredibly dull book on human behavior.

“What the hell.”   
  
The gruff voice startled Rian from her work, and she looked up from her spot on the bed to see someone climbing through her window. Once the initial shock had worn off, she opened her mouth to yell but found a large hand clasped gently but firmly over it. She was shaking and getting ready to bite the hand when she saw another man climb into her room.

Her gray eyes quickly flickered between the two men, trying to find a way out of this situation. She’d taken some self-defense when she was twelve, but she had a sinking feeling that her orange belt in karate was not going to help her now.

Apparently, her body was thinking ahead of her mind because suddenly she was licking the hand that covered her mouth. The man retracted his hand in disgust, and if Rian weren’t in the position she was in, clad only in shorts and a sports bra surrounded by two grown men, she would have laughed at the look on his face. Instead, she chose to glare at them in self-defense.  

“Who the fuck are you?” She questioned, now that she had use of her mouth, “Why the fuck are you in here?”   
  
She was reaching for her phone on the nightstand when the shorter of the two men, the one with the jade eyes, grabbed her wrist. She opened her mouth to yell but the other man, the taller one with the shaggy brown hair, covered her mouth again. She tried to lick his hand again but the grip he had prevented her from doing so.

“We don’t want to hurt you,” The taller man said in a surprisingly gentle and yet husky voice.

Rian rolled her eyes; those were the clichéd words of the everyday robber. She felt the strange urge to laugh bubble up but ignored it with a swallow. Rian could feel herself shaking even more, which happened in situations where she didn’t have control.

The first thing she did to calm down was count slowly backward from ten. When that didn’t work, she tried saying the alphabet backward starting from M then forwards beginning from N. When none of her typical tactics worked, she decided to lick the hand again. She knew she wouldn’t be able to calm down until she could breathe properly.

“Are you okay?” The man with his hand on her mouth asked, and Rian glared at him. Rian started to talk from behind the palm, but it muffled her voice. The man quickly withdrew his hand, and Rian narrowed her eyes at the two of them.

“Two strange men are in my room, and you’re asking if I’m okay?” She quipped using the familiarity of sarcasm to ground herself.

She shook her wrist free of the other man’s grip and wrapped both arms around her stomach. The urge to laugh was replaced by the need to throw up, and Rian groaned before rolling, so her head hung over the side of the bed that Shorty was on. She felt some satisfaction at the idea of covering his shoes with her lunch.

“Holy crap,” The man yelled, narrowly avoiding the sick before glaring over at Shaggy, “shit man, I did not sign up for this.”

Rian could hear the man walking towards the window, but he was stopped by the taller one. Rian spat the last of the sick out of her mouth and sat back up on the bed, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

“Dean, we can’t just leave her like this,” Shaggy said gesturing to where Rian was trying not to gag.

“No. Sam,” Shorty, though apparently, he was named Dean, said gruffly, “I did not sign up for chicks throwing up on me. If Henry wants this hunt cleared up, he can do it himself.”

Shaggy, or Sam if Rian wanted to be proper, knelt by the bed. He regarded Rian carefully while the girl glared at him. “What’s your name?”

“Like I’d tell you,” Rian said, or at least tried to say, her throat was sore, and her mouth was gross and dry. Instead, she began to cough up a lung.

Sam looked around the room quickly before spotting a water bottle on one of the shelves. He grabbed it and unscrewed the lid before handing it to Rian. She poured some of it into her mouth and swished it around before spitting it out, needing to get rid of the rest of the puke.

“Thanks,” She muttered, not one to forget her manners, before chugging the last of the water in one go.

When she finished the water, she took a moment to catch her breath and tried to get her jumbled thoughts together. This was apparently not a typical break-in, but she couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on. These men were not what she would expect of people who wished to do her harm. But then, she’d learned not to trust people by their actions when you first meet them.

“Like I’d tell you,” Rian said, at last, finally getting the full sentence out. She sneered at the men, “You break into my room and expect me to be forthcoming with information?”

Rian took a moment to look at the men more closely. They were definitely related, both men clad in plaid. They were also uncannily familiar, although Rian couldn’t place from where. She met a lot of people because of her job, and she wasn’t the best with faces when she didn’t have names.

“You’re right,” Sam, no, Shaggy said with a small apologetic smile, “I’m Sam, and this is Dean. Do you live here?”

Rian looked at the man incredulously.

“No. I actually broke in earlier and decided to sit on the bed doing work,” Rian quipped gesturing to the laptop that had slid off her lap and the pile of papers that surrounded her, “dumbass.”

The other man, Shorty, snorted.   
  
“Obviously, our information was wrong, C'mon, Sammy.” The man started to climb out the window.

“Wait,” Rian practically ordered. Dean and Sam. She knew those names and those faces. But she couldn’t possibly be right, could she? She was dreaming.  

Or maybe she had drunk too much last night.

Except for the fact that Rian avoided alcohol like the plague, that was an entirely plausible situation.

One of the men cleared their throats, and Rian realized she hadn’t yet asked the question she’d meant to ask.

“Sam and Dean who?” Rian asked, wringing her hands nervously.

“Winchester,” Shaggy offered after sharing a look with Shorty.

Rian nearly fainted. As it was, she leaned over the side of the bed and emptied the rest of her stomach. She felt a twinge of satisfaction when she heard Shorty, or Dean as they had told her, gag.

“That’s not possible,” Rian said, her face draining of color as she wiped her mouth. “This is definitely not possible.”

The brothers exchanged a look, Sam raising an eyebrow defiantly when Dean shook his head. After a moment, Dean sighed and gestured for Sam to do his thing. The taller Winchester knelt next to the bed and took Rian’s left hand gently between both of his while Dean watched from his place by the window.  

“Hey, hey,” Sam said gently, his voice working wonders on Rian’s nerves, “What’s wrong. We can help.”

Rian shook her head slowly. If Sam hadn’t had control of one of her hands, she’d have both clutched into her chaotic brown hair, as it was one of her hands was working the curls into a nested state. Rian would not be surprised to find a bird’s egg there one of these days.

Sam started to murmur comforting words while Rian worked to calm herself down. She prided herself on being rational and calm in stressful situations and right now she was neither of those, much to her disappointment.

Rian could hear someone drumming their fingers on the floor and used the sound to calm her nerves. Thankfully it worked, unlike her other tactics, and she could finally open the eyes she hadn’t realized she had closed.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked again, hoping that this time the girl would answer.

“Why are you guys here?” Rian asked instead. There was no way she was willing to explain that she even considered that these were the two brothers from _Supernatural._

Maybe she was crazy. It was probably that, nothing else made sense.

“We’re trying to find someone. A source told us this place was abandoned by them. Obviously, they were wrong.” Dean grumbled, answering after another silent conversation with Sam.

“Obviously,” Rian muttered looking around the room, avoiding looking at the two impossible men. Something was wrong with the place. She finally noticed it. Rian pushed herself off the bed and stumbled across the room to her desk, ignoring the looks from the brothers.

This desk was not hers. Rian’s desk was two horse stands supporting a slab of lightly finished wood. Rian’s dad had worked in construction and Rian had gotten the stands and wood from him before he and her mom had split up. It was Rian’s work desk for her woodwork, a hobby she’d picked up when she moved in with her aunt.

The desk in front of her was a dark wood, almost antique, monster of a desk. She had never seen the thing before in her life. The dresser matched the desk and the chair Rian had pushed out of the way was a rolling leather chair. Rian’s chair had been a rusty blue metal folding chair.

She continued to look around the room, aware of both sets of eyes on her, before going to sit on the bed again. Neither of the Winchesters had moved from their spots.

“Okay, I’m officially crazy,” Rian remarked before she started sobbing.   
  
“I’ll be in the car,” Dean said before standing. Sam glared at him, trying to communicate that he needed to stay without using words.

Dean shook his head and made his escape the same way he had made his entrance. Sam sighed before turning his attention back to the young woman in front of him.

She looked to be Sam’s age, about 22, with brown hair that needed a good brushing. She was wearing pink shorts and a gray sports bra. She was curling in on herself appearing smaller than she was. Sam had to resist the urge to pull her into a hug.

Once it seemed that the girl was calming down again, Sam asked another question. He was tired of calling her ‘the girl.’

“What’s your name?” Sam asked this time Rian answered.

“Rian Fitzgerald,” Rian said with a hiccup, “Sorry about the mess I’m in. Kinda a weird day.”

“Tell me about it,” Sam said in the tone that implied that he had also had a weird day.

“You wouldn’t believe me,” Rian breathed, refusing to make eye-contact with Sam, “I don’t even believe me.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, looking at the girl curiously.

“Clothes first,” Rian said, starting to feel uncomfortable now that she had calmed down. It wasn’t really that she was unhappy with her body, it was more that she’d been taught that her body was a treasure, only to be shown off to the right person. A philosophy she was trying to let go, which was difficult at the best of times.

Rian looked through several of the dresser drawers, finding that everything seemed like it was bought for a pre-teen, she wrinkled her nose in distaste. She was lucky to find a green sweater that was in her size in the closet. She threw it on before turning to look at Sam, who had watched her move throughout the room. He raised an eyebrow, prompting her to explain.

“I don’t live here,” Rian said when she caught Sam’s questioning gaze, “I mean, I live in a house just like this, and this room is a copy of my room, but it’s not mine.”

Sam nodded, “Okay. What does that mean?”

“I think it means I need your help.” Rian said, running a hand through her hair only for it to get caught in the tangles, “And hopefully a shower.”

Sam chuckled before growing serious, “We can try to help you, Dean and I, but we’re gonna need to know the full story.”

“Not here, not until I have proper clothes,” Rian said, picking up her laptop and shoving it into an empty black backpack. She slipped her phone into one of the side pockets and turned to Sam, “Not until I have shoes.”

Sam looked down to see that Rian was indeed barefoot. He agreed, and the two left the room through the window leading to a balcony that was attached to the house. There was no gatekeeping anyone out, and the path to the road was neatly trimmed. This was not Rian’s house.

“Did you have to bring her with you?” Dean demanded when Rian and Sam were standing next to the Impala at the bottom of the hill.

Rian was grinning and trying to resist the urge to pet the car. Honestly, the shiny black Chevy Impala was even more gorgeous in person than she had been on a TV screen. Rian wasn’t a big car person, but she could appreciate anything classic.   
  
Dean caught her staring at the car and frowned. The girl, Rian apparently, was much too excited about his Baby. He’d have to keep an even closer eye on her than he had been planning to. He didn’t like his distrust of the woman, but he could tell there was something off about her.

“Sam says you need clothes before we get the story,” Dean spoke when the group was loaded into the Impala, “You and Sammy are gonna go to Walmart or whatever and get you some clothes.”

“Fine by me,” Rian said, leaning back in her seat with a grin.

Now that she no longer felt that she was going to throw up Rian could think. When she was younger, she liked to believe that alternate and parallel universes were real. They were in Doctor Who, why couldn’t they be in real life? But travel between them? That should be impossible, hell, they couldn’t even make it to Mars.

There was no way she was in an alternate universe.

Of course, Rian wasn’t ruling out the crazy, delusional, psychotic episode she was potentially having.

But she didn’t feel crazy. Okay, maybe she felt just a little bit crazy. Would a crazy person know if they were crazy?

There was a strange sort of excitement buzzing around her chest. For the first time in twenty-two years, Rian was going on the adventure she had always dreamed of. Who gave a damn if this meant she was crazy?

“Rian?” The way Sam said her name told Rian that it was not the first time it had been spoken.

“Wha-?” She said in her most brilliant fashion, turning to face forward instead of looking out the window of the backseat.

“We’re at Walmart,” Sam said, almost apologetically, as though he knew he was interrupting something.

Rian saw both Winchesters watching her, Sam looking almost concerned, and Dean with a raised eyebrow. Rian blushed and mumbled something about how she had been thinking before scrambling out of the car.

“I’ll be back in thirty,” Dean said, although he was speaking to Sam, pointedly ignoring Rian. “you better be out here, or I’m driving off.”

Once they were in the store, it didn’t take long for the two of them to get into an argument about the best shoes for Rian.

“I’m the one who’s gonna be wearing them.” Rian pointed out, not for the first time, as she held up a pair of black converse. She rolled her eyes at the giant in front of her.

“But boots are gonna protect your feet better!” Sam argued, holding up a pair of sturdy hiking boots. Rian was never going to admit that he had won her over with “They’re only two dollars more and they’ll last longer.” She enjoyed the argument too much.

“Who says my feet need protecting?” Rian asked, “What if my feet are capable of protecting themselves?”  
“What?” Sam asked, looking at the young woman with confusion.

“My feet are strong, independent, feet that don’t need no shoes,” Rian said before taking the boots from Sam and setting down the converse. She put the boots in the cart with the fleece lined green jacket they had found.

“What,” Sam repeated before following Rian as she went to look for socks.

“This is a no shirt, no shoes, no service establishment,” A nasally voice said from behind Rian and Sam, who were arguing over the merits of boot socks compared to ankle socks, even though they had both chosen socks already.

Rian and Sam both turned to find that the owner of the voice was a lot shorter than they had expected. Rian was average in height, standing at five feet and six inches, but the man in front of them was lucky if he was considered 5’ on a good day.

“Excuse me?” Rian asked politely. Honestly, the man reminded her of Peter Pettigrew with a terrible comb-over and overhanging front teeth.

“This is a no shirt, no shoes, no service establishment.” The man repeated.

“I have a shirt on; he has shoes, what’s the problem?” Rian asked, tilting her head to the side innocently, “Or are you trying to discriminate against me? Is that it? If so I’d like to speak to your manager about this.”

“What?” The man asked, confused and unsettled by the turn this had taken.

“It’s my religion,” Rian explained, her voice taking on the tone of a mother scolding an unruly child, “I don’t wear shoes because of my religion.”

“Oh, well,” The man said, “In that case.”   
  
He quickly turned and disappeared around the corner.

Sam observed Rian and saw that she was shaking.   
  
“Are you okay?” He asked, putting a hand on the woman’s shoulder

Rian turned to face Sam, and he was relieved to see that she was only holding back laughter. He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, and soon the two were giggling like mad.

“I can’t believe he fell for that,” Rian said, wiping away a tear, “how are people so unobservant? These boots are obviously not in your size.”

“Well, not everyone can connect the dots,” Sam said, having also calmed down from his laughing fit, “Nice job using religion.”

“Thanks. I actually had this friend in college who never wore shoes because of his religion,” Rian explained as the two went to look at jeans.

“Really? What was his religion?” Sam asked, watching Rian as she ran her hands over the clothes they were passing to find the jeans.

“I never asked,” Rian said with a small frown.

Soon the cart was full of supplies that both Rian and Sam needed. Toiletries, clothes, some foodstuffs, and a duffle bag for Rian. They were at the checkout line when Sam grabbed a prepaid phone from an abandoned cart.

“For you,” Sam said when Rian raised an eyebrow at him.

Rian shook her head and pulled her phone from the pocket of the backpack she was still wearing.

“I have a phone,” Rian said.

“It’s always good to have an extra,” Sam argued

“I don’t need an extra, Sam.” Rian said, “You’ve already done enough I don’t need a phone.”

“Too bad,” Sam said as they pulled up to the front of the line, effectively ending the conversation.

“Seriously, Sam. You’re already paying for all this shit. It’s not like I’m going to be staying with you guys. Hell, I don’t even know why you’re doing all this for me,” Rian said in a harsh whisper, not wanting to draw extra attention to them. “You don’t need to buy me a new phone.”

“Fine, then I’m buying it for me. And if it just so happens that I have too many other phones then you’re going to have to take it.” Sam said with a shrug, grinning when Rian gave in.

“You’re insufferable.”

They walked out to find that Dean was nowhere in sight. Sam sighed and led Rian to a bench that was halfway between the two exits.

“Do you and Dean usually shop at Walmart?” Rian asked

“When there’s one around yeah.” Sam said, “Otherwise we go to thrift stores. But I figured you’d want to get new clothes so they’d last longer.”

“Thanks,” Rian said, letting the two lapse into a comfortable silence.

Five minutes later Dean pulled up, and the two loaded their findings into the back of the Impala. Dean just rolled his eyes before taking off to a motel.

The outside of the motel was gross, and Rian was surprised to find that it was comfortable looking on the inside. There were two beds, a decent looking couch, a table with three chairs, a mini fridge, and a microwave. She and Sam lugged their things onto one of the beds.

Rian was just about to sit down when she found herself painfully against the wall. She cringed and groaned at the pain but otherwise remained silent. When she was younger, she took a martial arts class, and they’d drilled it into her not to panic when she was in danger. She hadn’t had much practice with it but all things considered, she was doing a pretty good job not panicking.

Dean Winchester had Rian against the wall, an arm solidly against her collarbone and a knife to her throat. Rian swallowed but didn’t risk moving.

“What are you?” Dean growled out. He adjusted his grip on his knife and glared at Rian, breathing harshly.  

Rian couldn’t respond, any amount of movement and the knife would slice into her throat.

“I said, what are you?” Dean repeated harshly, he pushed into her collarbone, and Rian let out a squeak at the uncomfortable pressure.

She looked down at Dean’s arm, and he followed her gaze to the knife. Getting the hint Dean moved the blade back but kept it raised.

Rian took a deep breath, cleared her throat, and then finally spoke.

“I’m human, asshat,” Rian said harshly, now glaring at the Winchester, much to everyone’s surprise, “And if you’d let me do the fucking tests I could prove it. But no, the macho Winchester has to slam me into the wall. Seriously, no respect these days.”

“Dean,” Sam said quietly from where he was watching by the door, “She’s right, we haven’t done the tests.”

Dean grumbled but let Rian go. He shuffled through a duffle bag and brought out a flask of holy water and a silver knife. Rian took a swig from the container and cut her arm to prove to them she was human.

Once the tests were done, Rian had insisted the brothers do them too; the three were sitting at the table. Rian looked at the bandage on her arm and sighed.

“It’s a long story,” Rian said, answering a question Dean had posed while Sam was cleaning Rian’s cut. She considered how she would tell them her theory without sounding crazier than she felt.

“We’ve got time, sweetheart.” Dean said blithely, “and you aren’t going anywhere until you tell us.”

“What is your problem, Winchester?” Rian asked, glaring at the older brother, she rubbed a hand across her collarbone, feeling a phantom pressure there, “I haven’t done shit to you.”

“There’s no Rian Fitzgerald in Aberdeen, sweetheart; there has never been.” Dean growled severely, “There’s no Fitzgerald family at all.”

“Your point?” Rian demanded, still glaring at the Winchester. She dug her left hand into her leg, staving off a panic attack.

“My point is that we don’t know who you are.” Dean said, leaning forward to make his wariness clearer, “So you better start talking.”

“Fine,” Rian spat, not liking Dean’s attitude one bit. She’d had an aggressive boyfriend in her second quarter of college, and Dean was acting just like he had. “Where should I start?”

“The beginning,” Sam suggested, his voice much kinder than Dean’s, though Rian could tell that he too was tense.

Rian sighed, “Okay, my name is Rian Fitzgerald, I’m twenty-two years old, and I was born and raised in Aberdeen, Washington. I got my bachelors from UW in Law, Society, and Justice and was halfway through my masters when my parents died. I’ve been working since then. I was researching for a firm I volunteer at when you two numbskulls decided on a little B and E.”

There was silence in the room.

“Anything else you think is worth mentioning?” Dean asked, not backing down, “Some small detail that you deem to be unimportant.”

“I’m not a witch, or any other kind of supernatural creature, Dean.” Rian stated, she considered for a moment before continuing, “However there is something else, but I doubt you two are going to believe it.”

“Try us,” Dean dared, and Rian took the bait.

“I think I’m from an alternate universe or something.”

“Huh?” Dean breathed out, having not suspected that at all.

“What makes you say that?” Sam asked, hiding his suspicion so that Rian wouldn’t get defensive, a good tactic that worked on the girl.

“Well, the first clue was the room, it looks like mine, but it wasn’t. My desk was made for woodworking, not for actual desk work. The second clue was you two.” Rian told the men

“Us?” Dean asked, pointing at him and his brother.

“Yeah,” Rian agreed, pressing forward into Dean's arm “You two. The Winchester brothers. Saving people, hunting things, the family business. You see, in this alternate universe your life is a TV show.” Rian held up a hand to stop them as the brothers tried to interrupt, “Yes, I know it sounds crazy but hear me out, please,” The brothers shared a look then nodded, “I think I can prove it.”

“Go ahead,” Sam said after a moment of silence.

Rian took a deep breath and then started, “Nod if what I say is correct, Sam, you went to Stanford with hopes of studying law.” Sam nodded, “Dean, you were raised as a hunter, strict orders to protect Sam, recently your dad went missing, and that’s why you got Sam from college.” Dean nodded, though the glare he was wearing was not giving Rian any confidence.

“How do you know this?” Dean asked, his voice hard.

“I told you,” Rian said, her voice just as hard, “A TV show.”

“I don’t believe you,” Dean growled, bringing the knife closer to Rian’s neck.

“Well too bad,” Rian snapped, “Because it’s true, okay. You guys are characters on a fucking TV show in some alternate universe that I happen to have transported from, okay?” She tried not to push forward anymore, not wanting to give Dean anymore of a reason to hurt her, “there’s nothing any of us can do about it so you might as well not be a dick.”

Rian blinked, and suddenly she was on the ground. Dean’s knees were pressed into her thighs, and he held the knife to her throat. She winced at the pressure and knew that if she survived this, she would have a bruise on her hip and a bump on her head.

Rian glared at him, even though her breaths were coming in quick puffs. He glared back, but that wasn’t what caused Rian to slump in resignation. It was the hard look Sam was giving her. Rian had hoped that Sam would be willing to at least hear her out.

Apparently, she had been wrong.

“Do it,” She croaked out without opening her eyes. She didn’t want the last thing she sees to be the twin expression of distrust and disgust, “don’t you know how to pull through on a threat?”

She was terrified, Rian kept her eyes closed, using the press of Dean’s knees to ground her. She knew that now was a crappy time to have a panic attack. If she did, she would for sure be done for. As it was, she was, already pushing her luck.  

“Dean,” Sam said quietly, and Rian felt a surge of hope, maybe he would help her, “Maybe she’s right.”

Dean didn’t let up any pressure on Rian, but he did turn to look at Sam, pulling the knife away from her neck.

“And maybe she’s not, Sam,” Dean was loud, and it was not helping Rian calm down a bit, “We can’t trust her. “We don’t know who she is and what she wants. Hell, she could be the thing that killed mom and Jess!”

 At that Dean turned to Rian to find that the girl was silently crying. Her eyes were shut tight, and Dean could see her lips moving, but he couldn’t make out what she was saying. He paused for a moment to study her.

She was shorter than him and Sammy but not super short, about five- seven, five- eight. She had long brown hair that obviously needed a wash. Her face was blotchy, and her nose was running. Rian looked almost pitiful to Dean.

But not enough for him to move.

“I didn’t,” Rian said suddenly, her eyes were open, and she was staring at Dean with a determination that he hadn’t seen since Sam left for Stanford. “I’m not the ‘thing’ that killed Mary or Jess. I’m not a ‘thing,’” She sneered the word, “I’m a goddamned human being Dean. I don’t want to hurt you or Sammy or anyone.” She took a pitiful breath and looked at Sam, “I just want to go home.”


End file.
